


bring me a dream

by Littlelionman15



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Court of Mist and Fury Spoilers, Alternate Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses Fusion, Artist Feyre Archeron, Book 1: A Court of Thorns and Roses, Book 2: A Court of Mist and Fury, Cute Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand Family, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Healing, Moving On, Nightmares, POV Feyre Archeron, Post-A Court of Thorns and Roses, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Rhysand (ACoTaR), Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlelionman15/pseuds/Littlelionman15
Summary: AU of a scene in ACoMaF, in which Feyre stays with Rhysand once she learns he has nightmares, keeping him company.
Relationships: Amarantha/Rhysand (ACoTaR), Amren & Feyre Archeron, Azriel & Cassian & Morrigan (ACoTaR), Azriel & Cassian & Rhysand (ACoTaR), Azriel & Rhysand (ACoTaR), Cassian & Rhysand (ACoTaR), Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	bring me a dream

**Author's Note:**

> "mr sandman, bring me a dream  
> make her the cutest that I've ever seen  
> give her two lips like roses in clover  
> and tell her that her lonely nights are over" 
> 
> hi my beloved royalty!
> 
> this is my first shot at a ACOTAR fic! if i made mistakes, i'm sorry - it's the first fic of a book i've made, where i read the way the author wrote it and then i write something similar; it's been a fun experience writing this one, and i hope you'll enjoy it as much as i did writing it ❤  
> also, worth mentioning - i'm only halfway through the 2nd book, so i'm sorry if it's inconsistent with how the story progresses.  
> (feyre and rhys are my precious babies omg)
> 
> please leave feedback if you liked it or disliked it - any and all is welcome!  
> enjoy the reading ❤

The night engulfed the room to which the bond had taken her to.  
She knew it was him; she felt it through the trembling of her fingers as she clung to it, felt it through the fire that rose in her chest to counteract the coldness that made her exhales manifest as white smoke, parting with her lips as she called out his name.

Feyre halted at the threshold, taking a moment to witness what befell onto her eyes. He was standing there – the same High Fae she met at _Calanmai_ , the High Lord who helped her Under the Mountain and whom she hit in the head with her wedding slipper; the same man she so delightfully called prick, at which he’d purr and arch his beautiful lips into a smile only a devil like himself could achieve.

He now stood with his back turned towards her, but even then she saw that he’d been caught at the eye of the storm that was this darkness; she could, once she’d blink carefully and strongly enough, tell that Rhys had _become_ the darkness he summoned.

There was no golden skin and no prideful tattoos, no wings and nowhere to be found was the piece of him she’d hoped to see the most – that pair of violet eyes, with which he could set the continents aflame if he’d release all the energy and power he held back within them.

It didn’t take her longer than a moment to realize what was happening; she’d known the feeling too well herself, dreaded the bed and pillow on which she slept every night only because she knew she’d face it once more, found herself powerless against the enemy that was slowly yet surely surpassing Amarantha.

Rhysand had been caught in a nightmare.

Immediately, as if she’d allowed her feet to guide her and her body to act before the panic and helplessness could taint the thoughts that birthed within her mind, had taken charge, she moved closer towards him, approaching him calmly, with her caring hand outstretched.

The darkness was denser at its core than it was along the way, so once she’d come close enough to grasp him, she’d already dealt without sight, hearing or tasting, because all she knew – all she could feel, was the freezing darkness that slowly began creeping underneath her skin like a curse, spinning its cobwebs carefully and precisely.

“Rhys” she called softly, and the man in front of her turned his head – their eyes would meet if there were any to see beneath the coating of the element he gladly conjured. “Rhys, listen to me.”

The thickness of the veil between them reduced; it’d been as if a layer of it had been taken away, back to the midnight skies and bright stars to which it belonged.  
Breathing felt easier and her senses began returning as she gently traced the line from his shoulder up his neck, sliding over the sharp jaw with the tips of her fingers, and at last, placed her hand against his cheek.

“It’s just a bad dream” she whispered gently, as she was sure she’d heard him whisper it so many times through their bond when she was still ~~imprisoned~~ staying at the Spring Court. “And you can stop it.”

“None of it is real” Feyre continues, gently pushing his shoulders to be met face to face with the dark outline of his head. She places her other hand under his cold cheek, feeling the satin touch of his skin brush against her own. “And none of it can hurt your loved ones.”

She knew she had to say that his loved ones are safe, because knowing Rhys as well as she had, meant knowing that he didn’t care about what would happen to him – _not caring_ , even – as long as it meant his family was safe. He’d done it fifty years ago, carrying the burden of that decision every night when the King of Hybern’s most praised general had forced him into bed.

Rhysand slowly began leaning his forehead onto hers. The darkness was retracting, and as it did, Feyre felt his knees tremble underneath the pressure of forcing it back in.

“It’s just a nightmare” she whispered softly, as if to not alarm him, “and she has no power over you anymore.”

Now she was seeing his room for the first time – a place where he took off the very mask he wore every day, burying in it all the horror and fear he felt all the time but would never admit nor display; a place where he wasn’t the notorious High Lord of the Night Court, but Rhysand, the man who’d taken in all the hurt the world had given him, and turned it into something beautiful.

Rhysand, the shameless flirt.  
Rhysand, the Illyrian half-breed.  
Rhysand, the survivor of the horrors of Under the Mountain.

Feyre had taken his arm around her shoulders, and gently placed him down onto the bed.  
He’d still been in a trance-like state, the shoulders of the strong warrior and leader now sunken and low, Feyre admiring the fire behind the very same violet eyes she once resented, and now was slowly learning to understand, and perhaps even… _love_ , one day – when she was strong enough to love herself again first. 

“I awoke you” he says, darting his eyes anywhere but onto her. “I’m sorry.”  
Shame had painted his cheeks a flushing red and Feyre exhaled sharply.

“I’ll ask you tomorrow why you didn’t tell me you had nightmares, High Lord” she says, helping his dreaming eyes sink into peaceful slumber, and tired body into the soft mattress and silk pillow.  
“But right now,” she pulls closer the chair from the writing desk in his room, sitting in its comfortable, red velvet cushion after she extinguished the lights in the room. “Right now, I’m going to hold your hand, and don’t try to refuse it because of your High Lord pride – I’d gladly stay with you through our bond, but the nightmare made your walls impenetrable.”

She began slowly and gently putting her hand near his, waiting for approval from the exhausted eyes whose color she couldn’t mimic even if she were to spend days mixing paint. And as he opens them for one last time, a faint, grateful smile draws his lips into the markings of a beautiful smile.

“Thank you, Feyre darling” he’d whispered as she stroked his hair, sinking into calm sleep for the first time since not even he himself knew when.


End file.
